


Stargazing

by TARDISTraveller42



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alcohol, Drinking & Talking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Late Night Conversations, Outer Space, romantic or strong friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-18 20:05:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18125861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TARDISTraveller42/pseuds/TARDISTraveller42
Summary: The Doctor and Clara look out at the stars, drink something called Jupiter Juice, and try to solve the mysteries of human morality and tragedy.





	1. Stargazing

“And I will still be here, stargazing. I’ll still look up, look up, look up for love.” - Kygo

The night sky is, always, a beautiful thing. But to be a part of it; to dance among the stars in the safety of the TARDIS doorway; to hover in deep space with nothing else to mar the view...it was absolutely mesmerizing. After all this time, Clara still couldn’t believe it. A gasp released as the Doctor opened the doors, though she’d seen similar vistas dozens of times by now. Her heart thumped just a little louder in her chest; her heart, made of stardust and pumping with blood forged in a supernova.

She was a part of it all. Through all of their trips, all of the running and screaming and laughing, that was the main lesson. That everyone and everything out there and in here was connected, endlessly. Tethered together by the strings of the universe, which danced and pitched and formed new galaxies and sewed new lives out of those long gone.

Clara blinked and found a lost tear in her eye, which she wiped away before the Doctor returned. When he did, she gave him a simple smile and came back to herself.

“You picked a nice spot tonight,” she said, as if those words were enough. As if the blues and reds dotted with white against the backdrop of black hadn’t just brought tears to her eyes.

“Jupiter Juice?” he asked suddenly, procuring a newly opened glass bottle filled with a purple substance.

Clara gave it a hesitant sniff before taking a sip. With raised eyebrows, she shook her head.

“I was expecting grape. What is in that?”

“No idea. Usually best not to ask,” the Doctor said, taking a large gulp of the stuff.

“Tastes like whiskey.”

“It’s not; I definitely got the non-alcoholic version. Probably.”

Clara cocked her head, tempting another small sip. It tasted alright, after the initial shock was through. A little stronger than she liked, but nothing she couldn’t handle.

“Hey, is the TARDIS shell outside?” she asked, turning to the door.

“Of course. Why?”

“I was thinking we could sit in the doorway for a bit. Look out. The stars are gorgeous.”

The Doctor gave her one of his rare smiles; the kind that lit up his eyes and made her heart skip a beat. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” he said softly, leading her to the doorway.

They sat with their legs dangling over the edge, hands holding tight onto their glasses as they drank. Clara wasn’t afraid, though. She knew the TARDIS would catch her. And if she didn’t, then the Doctor would. 

That thought brought an unconscious smile to her face.

“What?” he asked. 

She shook her head, her smile softening but not fading.

“Nothing.” She leant her head on his shoulder, trying to ignore the fact that his whole body stiffened at the contact. 

Clara sighed, eyes flickering down to another brilliant part of the sky.

“I wish everyone could see the world like we can,” she said. “Maybe there’d be less...bad stuff. Wars, and fighting, and bigotry and all that.”

The Doctor was quiet for a moment, taking another large swig of his drink.

“Ah, but what about the billion pound profits?” he said sarcastically. “And the power-trips, and all of the people to oppress. You can’t do any of that when you have a conscience.”

She turned up to him, giving him a strange look, and then nestled back onto his shoulder.

“You’re speaking boldly tonight.”

“I’ve been hanging around in your time; trying to make sense of it all. It’s like humans enjoy suffering, or making others suffer. Watching over Earth is like watching over library full of book-burners.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Clara murmured. “I have to live with it.”

She took another small sip, and then set her drink down beside her. With her hands now free, she wrapped them around the Doctor’s arm and smiled at the fact that he didn’t jump or stiffen this time.

“But some of them are pretty great,” the Doctor said thoughtfully.

“You mean, like, Shakespeare, Da Vinci, Einstein…”

The Doctor cocked his head.

“Among others.” He looked pointedly at her.

Clara froze for a second, and then grinned.

“Are you being charming?”

“Why; is it working?” 

Clara turned away from him, back to the stars, trying to process what to say next. As she gazed at a planet that had just come into view, the Doctor took another sip of his drink. She noted that as he lowered it back to his lap, it was half empty.

“Doctor, you’re drinking that way too fast.”

“I told you, Clara, it’s not alcoholic.”

Clara rolled her eyes, but didn’t comment.

“I think…” the Doctor said, shifting how he was seated. “Humans are, usually good. Or at least have good intentions. But sometimes they do things that are just so, so unbelievably pudding-brained. And then some of them are really just…” 

A dark look came into his eye as he stared out at the stars.

“Some of them are not good. And then they’re encouraged by...by people who have power. People w-who have authority, and use that authority to do bad things and spread bad things...that needs to stop. I’ve seen it, time and time again. You give bad people a platform and you give them airtime...it never ends well. Not on my planet, not on yours...nowhere.”

Clara was leaned back now, watching him carefully. 

“Doctor?”

His eyes were a bit pink as he turned to her.

“Hmm?” He took another large gulp of his Jupiter ‘juice’.

“Are you...where were you; before you picked me up?”

He seemed to need to think hard about that. Then his mouth fell open in an ‘o’ shape, just before he relaxed again.

“I was bouncing around your future. I like to look ahead; know what’s coming up for you soon. The Jonas Brothers are coming back! Ooh, sorry, spoilers.” He cleared his throat, adjusting how he was seated again. “But...some bad stuff, too. Nothing...sadly, nothing you haven’t seen before. Well, nothing you haven’t seen similarities to before.”

His brow furrowed. Clara wasn’t sure if he was thinking of the events he’d witnessed or whether or not the word ‘similarities’ existed.

“It’s frightening, Clara,” he said, shocking her with his openness. “How terrible human beings can be.”

He passed his glass into his left hand, and then suddenly took hold of her fingers with his right. 

Clara’s eyes widened. He’d almost never initiated hand-holding before. Almost never admitted he was afraid.

“But you can be pretty great, too,” he said with a smile in her direction. His eyes were red and glistening now; his cheeks blushed with pink.

“Do you hear that, universe?” he shouted at the night sky, making Clara jump. “Clara Oswald is one of the good ones! She’s on the side of heroes!”

He went to take one last swig of his drink, but Clara pried it gently out of his grasp.

“How about we take it easy with that now, okay?” she said softly, setting his glass on her other side. 

She rose to her knees and took his other hand in hers.

“Come on; let’s get you up.”

He groaned with the effort, but eventually made it to his feet. Clara kept one hand wrapped around his waist, though, as his steps were anything but graceful.

“I think I forgot to eat supper, Clara,” he said. “Is that why my head feels all loopy?”

“I think that’s because you downed a glass of, whatever the hell Jupiter Juice is, in less than half an hour. Still, though, I didn’t know you were such a lightweight, Doctor.”

“I told you, it’s not alcoholic.”

“Yeah...but you also once called jelly babies ‘fruit’.”

He looked at her like she just said Santa Claus wasn’t real. 

“They are! They’re my favorite fruit, next to bananas.” 

Clara dropped the conversation for now, letting him lean on the console to give her arms a break.

“I’m feeling hungry, too. Know of any good restaurants still open?”

Now his eyes were simply incredulous.

“Clara, we’re in a time machine...everything is still open.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay...this chapter got very shippy. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter Two

“If I steered us correctly…”

"Which would be an amazing feat given how inebriated you are,” Clara finished.

The Doctor elected to ignore her comment.

“We should be at an American diner sometime in the fifties.” He finished parking the TARDIS and started toward the door. “If we’re lucky, we can probably catch Elvis later. I keep meaning to return his guitar.”

Clara paused. 

“Hold on; you stole Elvis’ guitar?”

The Doctor shrugged, quirking his lips.

“Stolen, borrowed, one of those irrelevent human terms.”

He opened the door and let Clara lead the way into the building. They were parked inside the threshold, just barely out of the way of the front entrance and probably breaking a few codes. But nevertheless, a waitress with purple eyes and a swishing tail greeted them as they entered.

Clara unconsciously froze in her pace.

“Just two of you today?” the alien waitress responded.

“Er…” Clara turned to the Doctor, who seemed to notice the woman for the first time.

“Oh. Right, sorry; yes, two of us.” As the waitress grabbed some menus, the Doctor leant down beside Clara. “Okay...accidentally took us to the one in space. But close enough.”

Clara smiled, looping her arm through his again.

“It’s perfect.”

“Right this way,” the waitress called. 

Clara tried not to step on her tail as they followed her down the aisle. Along the way, they passed a few other alien families, all very different from one another. One couple was seemingly human, sitting at the counter sharing chips.

Clara eased the Doctor into one of the booths and took a seat opposite, thanking the waitress for both of them before she wandered off.

“Tourists,” the Doctor said suddenly. “This is a popular attraction in the nearby galaxy. ‘Ancient architecture’.”

“Don’t tell my dad that,” Clara chuckled. “He was born in the fifties.”

They looked over their menus and ultimately decided on a couple stacks of pancakes and a shared milkshake. The Doctor seemed to be recovering, talking excitedly about all of the different alien races that humans inspired. Then, suddenly, as the food and milkshake arrived, he grew quiet.

“Clara?”

She looked up from where she was pouring maple syrup on her pancake to find him staring at the milkshake.

“There’s only one.”

She pulled a straw out of the nearby tin and gave him a baffled smile.

“Yeah, I thought we could share one. I’m not super thirsty anyway.”

His eyebrows furrowed, making her smile widen. He hesitantly picked up a straw of his own, grumbling under his breath.

“What was that?” Clara asked.

“Humans love risking disease.”

She took a sip of the milkshake, and then gestured for him to do the same. He merely frowned, eyes boring into the drink.

“It’s not like you haven’t kissed anyone before,” Clara joked. Then she thought it over. “You have, haven’t you?”

His cheeks blushed pink, mixing with the pink that was already there from the Jupiter Juice incident. 

“Not in this body,” he murmured. “Not...really. Besides that one with Missy, which doesn't count.”

He cleared his throat and avoided eye contact, digging into his pancake stack. Clara watched him for a moment, and then went back to eating her own food. 

A minute later, the Doctor seemed to have a change of heart. He swallowed his pancake, set his fork down, and, very suddenly, started drinking. Clara smiled to herself, and then took her straw in hand and drank as well. They made eye contact, just for a second, over the glass.

Then the Doctor’s eyebrows drew together, and he pulled back with a hand on his forehead.

“Ow,” he groaned.

“Brain freeze?”

“Plus Jupiter Juice catching up with me.” He closed his eyes and massaged his temples.

“Finally gonna admit that it wasn’t ‘non-alcoholic’?” Clara jibed. When he didn’t laugh, she maneuvered to his side of the booth and took his arm.

“Come on,” she encouraged. “Let’s get you home.”

He merely groaned again, as she pulled him up with her. She practically dragged him to the TARDIS, leaning him on the doorway with one hand on his chest as she dropped a wad of universal credits onto the front counter. 

“Up you get,” she muttered as he started slipping to the floor. 

She grunted with the effort, but got him into the jumpseat. Within a minute, he was half asleep with his limbs splayed every which way. Clara smiled at the sight, then hurried to the telepathic circuits and dipped her fingers in.

“Take us home, old girl,” she whispered.

She knew exactly where they’d end up, and let the TARDIS do most of the work in getting them there.

They landed with a thud that woke the Doctor, jostling him to his feet with wide eyes.

“Clara?”

“Right here, Doctor.”

He looked down, features softening into a warm smile when he saw his companion standing in front of him.

“Clara,” he murmured, putting an arm around her. She almost squeaked in surprise, but took hold of his waist.

“Let’s get you to the sofa.”

“Sofa? Where are we? Where have we landed?” He said, slurring his rapid words.

“My place. Figured you needed a rest.”

“I’m a Timelord. We don’t...rest,” he said, yawning.

Clara didn’t even respond, half-dragging him to her sofa. As soon as his knee hit it, he dropped onto the cushions bonelessly.

“Nighty night, Clara,” he said, closing his eyes even as his legs dangled over the edge of the sofa.

Clara helped him the rest of the way up, and then turned him onto his side.

“Goodnight, Doctor.” She ran her fingers through his hair, relishing this one time he wasn’t too off put by physical contact to do such a thing. 

“Wait, Clara!” he called, sitting up halfway again.

Clara knelt down beside him with a furrowed brow. And then, abruptly, he pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head.

He smiled softly.

“Now I’ve had my first kiss,” he said quietly.

Clara smiled to herself, feeling her cheeks blushing. She stroked the hair above his ear and said, “Nah, that’s not a real kiss.”

Before she could lose her nerve, she leaned forward and touched her lips to his. His eyes widened for a moment, and then fluttered closed as he kissed her back.

When they broke apart, Clara leaned back with a nod.

“That’s your first kiss.”

They shared a smile just before the Doctor shut his eyes and fell asleep, almost instantly. Clara brushed her fingers through his hair just once more, and then whispered, “Goodnight, Doctor.”

She got to her feet and made sure he was still on his side and distanced from the sharp corners of the coffee table, then went off to bed in a slight daze. 

Had tonight happened? Because it felt more like a dream. Perhaps it was the stars, finally pulling them together.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Clara woke the Doctor with the smell of tea and a sweet smile.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” She set the tea on the coffee table and then stood back to watch him.

His head felt….awful. Headache times ten. And there were some memories missing. Not quite as strong as a typical memory wipe or a neural blocker, but just as disorientating.

“Clara...what happened?” He asked, closing his eyes as he massaged his temples. 

Clara’s lips pursed together. A frown, perhaps? The Doctor couldn’t tell, and went back to wallowing in his misery with eyes closed.

“You don’t remember?”

“Wait.” He groaned. “Starting to.”

His eyes opened abruptly, realizing some things at the same time Clara gave him that sweet smile again. That knowing, slightly mischievous smile.

“Did we…?”

She replied with a deeper smile.

The Doctor covered his face in his hands.

“No, wait, hold on. Why are my memories all scattered?”

Clara sat beside him, sipping her own cup of tea.

“You drank a bunch of something you called ‘Jupiter Juice’, which you claimed was non-alcoholic. I’m trying hard not to say, ‘I told you so’, but seeing as you were extra sweet to me last night, maybe I’ll let it pass.”

“Sweet?” The Doctor’s eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t do ‘sweet’.”

Clara chuckled, mostly to herself.

“Agree to disagree.”

They passed a moment in silence, then, as they both drank their tea. The Doctor downed his in about three big gulps, so that before Clara was really awake yet, he was already up and bounding for the door.

“I’ve got to get going,” he insisted. “Things to do, people to meet.”

“Doctor?” Clara stood, setting down her mug.

The Doctor froze in front of the door.

“What made you visit me yesterday? You showed up kind of out of the blue, and then took us to that space view you love so much.”

She folded her arms, guarding against the morning chill or guarding against the awkwardness that had settled in the room. The Doctor’s face was almost as red as it had been last night.

“I felt a distress call,” he said, gesturing to his head. “Your distress. At the pudding brain students, probably. Or politicians. One of those. Telepathic circuits must have gotten activated, which brought me here.”

He said it matter-of-factly, like he was describing a chemical reaction or a straightforward physics equation. But Clara saw it differently, approaching him with big eyes.

“What?” He asked, suddenly uncomfortable.

“You always act so cool and untouchable. But you’re a big softie underneath, aren’t you, Doctor? You’re more in tune to emotions than I am.”

His eyes were staring avidly at the clock on the wall behind her head. But he turned to her sharply as her hand touched his cheek. 

Clara’s lips landed on the opposite side of his face, just under his cheekbone. The Doctor froze again, unsure of himself and bending awkwardly so Clara could reach his shoulder to hold him in place. When she pulled away, her smile melted both of his hearts and stole most of the discomfort.

“Thank you for worrying about me,” she said softly.

“It’s my job to worry. I have a duty of care.” 

Clara patted his cheek one last time.

“I know, Doctor. But still; thank you.”

He smiled too, then, and it lit up his eyes.

“It’s my honor, Clara Oswald.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I'm thinking of starting another AU, because I'm in the mood for fluff more than angst these days. Would that be something to interest you guys?


End file.
